


Untrusting

by reigningqueenofwords



Series: the Games We Play [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21607636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Relationships: dean x reader - Relationship
Series: the Games We Play [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1413232
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Untrusting

There was no way. The man that you were working the case with could not be the same one that you had fallen for. Your eyes read the words over, and over. They mocked you. Finally, the two of you thought you should talk about this face to face. You agreed to meet him at the diner for breakfast the next morning. This was a lot to figure out, and you both needed time to accept this.

Laying in bed, you couldn’t sleep. The person you’d grown to love online was so drastically different from the one that you’d spent your day with. Tearing up, you rolled over, your stomach dropping. How could this end well? Especially with how he was! He’d made you feel so special online, and then today? All he did was flirt with everyone. You allowed yourself to break down, your heart breaking.

* * *

Dean slammed his laptop shut, but not for the same reasons that you were upset. He saw the same feisty character in both the online you, and the you he’d spent the day with. You were the only one that he hadn’t flirted with- for the simple fact that you were a hunter, and you’d slept with Sammy.

The thought made his blood boil. He knew that it shouldn’t, but it did. The woman he loved, had been in bed with his little brother. Grabbing his keys, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. He would go get some beer, and think things over. He had all night to calm down.

He was almost at the store when it hit him. There was no way that the two of you would ever work out. Not after how he’d acted all day. He knew what that would look like to you. Knowing the woman he loved would probably never, ever talk to him the same way again hurt worse than the fact that Sam knew what it felt like to hold you. His fist hit the steering wheel, his anger now aimed at himself. He’d shot himself in the foot without knowing it.

* * *

The next morning, you’d taken your time getting ready. Not to look good for him, but because you were tired. You hadn’t slept well, and you weren’t exactly looking forward to this breakfast. Having dressed in your ‘FBI’ gear, you walked out of your room and made your way to the car. The Impala was gone, so you figured he’d already left.

When you pulled into the diner, however, the black car was nowhere to be seen. Furrowing your brows, you walked in, getting a booth by a window. This way, you could see if he pulled in. Time ticked by- you ordered your drink, looked over the menu, and ordered. Still no sign of Dean Winchester. As your food was brought to you, that said all you needed to know. Swallowing down your tears, you let out a small sigh.

* * *

Dean jerked awake, his head against the window. After he’d bought some beer and whiskey, he’d driven off to some back road, sat in the back seat, and drowned out the yelling in his head. His back against the door, he wound up nodding off.

Getting out, he stretched and let out a groan. His body was pissed at him for sleeping like that. He quickly found all the empty bottles and shoved them in the paper bag before putting them in the trunk and slamming it shut. He had to get to that diner!

* * *

Leaving a tip, you grabbed your coat and slid out of the booth. You’d already sat there for 5 minutes after paying your bill. There was no use sticking around. You’d be calling Bobby to tell him you’d never work with the Winchesters again.

Your hand was on the door, pushing it open when you felt your sadness be made worse with anger. You’d honestly believed he wanted to talk to you. Like adults.

* * *

Dean pulled into the parking lot and quickly found a spot. He rushed out of the car, not caring that he probably smelled like booze at the moment. Running in a side door, he asked a waitress about you- describing you. She told him you’d gone out the front maybe two minutes before. Dean thanked her and ran back out, hoping to catch you in the parking lot. He had to- he loved you.


End file.
